


dont know where his soul is

by parkjinchu



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Healing, M/M, Smoking, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 09:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12723744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkjinchu/pseuds/parkjinchu
Summary: Bin, Dongmin realises, is a bird. He is fidgety, quick. Constantly he escapes, flying away, the fears in his fragile heart outgrowing him. His soul went missing, from time to time – at one point, Dongmin had been sure he’d owned a piece of it. Now, he wonders where it went.this is a work of fiction, and in no way represents the real lives of astro's members. in case of astro/fantagio/reasonable fan request, this fic will be taken downread full disclaimer on my profile





	dont know where his soul is

**Author's Note:**

> title from nelly furtado's 'im like a bird', though it doesnt have a LOT to do with the fic tbh i just cant stop listening to it anyway i wrote this in like an hour and i barely edited it bare with me

****

When they were young, they’d loved with so much energy, perhaps they’d burnt out.

Dongmin met Bin in the Spring of his second year at university. Moon Bin was fresh out of high school, riding the tightrope of his gap year. Ears pierced, dark hair, a studded leather jacket and a packet of cigarettes in his breast pocket. Bin was an enigma for Dongmin to solve, to work from the outside in.

Their contrasts were fascinating. Dongmin worked hard at school, fumbled over two jobs, holed himself up in his dark bedroom and made himself half-assed dinners with whatever was left in the fridge. Bin, on the other hand, thrived in his freedoms, skipped from one challenge to the next, lived with the wind in his hair and the kiss of the sun on his skin. They were Yin and Yang, two perfect contrasts that needed a piece of each other to balance out.

They became tangled within each other, a deliberate mess of two different personalities. Crazy, passionate – insane. They were touch crazed – obsessed with the feeling of each other’s lips on theirs, of their fingertips grazing their skin, of their hands between each other’s legs. They were in love, wholly and unapologetically.

Slowly, they matured. Highways at midnight, nearly empty with such a hollow atmosphere, longed for the sound of their loud laughter, of the screech of Bin’s motorbike tyres. Their alcohol cupboard thinned out. Their saving accounts filled a little faster. Dongmin learnt how to cook better.

At first, mature had meant a secure love, a purpose for their future. Yet, slowly, the definition of the word had dwindled into something akin to _boring_. Their schedules were repetitive, dreary. Once, they were a refuge from their long, hard days, but soon enough, they became the reason.

They adopted a baby girl, sometime in between then. It brought them closer, at first, as they worked hard to care for her. She was a bubbly little thing, a stopper on the draining of their affection for one another. Though they both loved her, she wasn’t enough, and they started to drift apart again.

Dongmin spent nights curled into his sheets as Bin fell back into his old habits, midnight drinking in clubs far away from home. Nights wondering if he was really in love, if he’d made the right decisions. If there was anything he could do to make them love again as they once had, to feel that addicting adrenaline in his veins again.

In desperation, Dongmin suggested they adopt another child. Bin, with a coffee in his hand and desperation in his gaze, had agreed. That night, as their child slept, they quietly made love, wrapped around each other and feeling warmth in every ounce of their beings. To heal, they’d said. To forget this ever happened, they said. We’re better now, they believed.

Their second child, a baby boy, was born and adopted on the eve of their anniversary. They kissed, felt each other’s bodies meet, but their hearts did not swell as they once had.

 _I have to go_ , Bin says, one night, a cigarette hanging from his lips. It was a familiar sight, though one that Dongmin hadn’t seen with Bin’s slightly aged face before.  

Dongmin grasps his wrist, tugging on it as their front door swings open. _Don’t leave me behind_ , he begs. He wants to say, ‘I love you’, to coax the younger man back into his arms – despite the infidelity that had been woven into his personality since their youth – but he can’t bring himself to utter it.

 _I can’t do this anymore_ , Bin replies, the cigarette wagging between his teeth, an ember of ash fluttering from the end and falling on Dongmin’s night shirt. _I was different when I was younger. I thought I could handle this._

 _Only if you’ll be happier_ , Dongmin murmurs, tugging on the jagged sleeve of his jacket, feeling the material between his fingers. The texture comes with memories, simmering in the back of his mind – of the wind in his hair, speeding down streets on Bin’s old motorbike, arms wrapped around his waist and the scuffs on his leather jacket scratching his skin. The scent of Bin’s favourite mint gum, of petrol, of sex. The overwhelming swelling in his chest, love and freedom. _You can only leave if it’ll make you happier_.

Bin frowns, running his fingers through his hair. How did they end up like this? Dongmin remembers, so vividly, how intense their love had been. How had it not continued, so? _I’m not sure_ , he replies, rasping and dull. _I need to try. You have to let me try, Min_.

That nickname. Uttered from Bin after their first kiss, drowning in frothy beginnings of their love, he’d whispered it against Dongmin’s hairline. He’d said it many more times, thousands more, in their most precious moments, their most vulnerable. It almost takes Dongmin away – he hadn’t heard that nickname in so long.

 _I don’t_ have _to do anything_ , Dongmin responds. _We’ve been together for years. I thought that we balanced each other out?_ What had tipped their scales? What had cut their electrifying connection? _I thought I made you happy_.

Bin, Dongmin realises, is a bird. He is fidgety, quick. Constantly he escapes, flying away, the fears in his fragile heart outgrowing him. His soul went missing, from time to time – at one point, Dongmin had been sure he’d owned a piece of it. Now, he wonders where it went. Additionally, Bin has a home under his wing, in his arms, a shelter Dongmin had always retreated too.

 _You do_ , Bin says. Present tense. Present tense – _do_ , Dongmin thinks.

Bin pulls the cigarette from between his lips, stamps it out on the ripped knee of his jeans, tosses it behind him. Dongmin wants to scold him, but before he can, Bin grabs him by his wrist, pushing him back against the wall. His lips taste ashy, a little metallic, like blood. An intoxicating taste, one Dongmin had discovered in the early stages of their relationship – after Bin would smoke, he would chew at his lips, grind his teeth, trying to remove the flavour of nicotine from beneath his tongue, though it only ever replaced the taste with blood.

The younger boy’s greedy hands palm at Dongmin’s flesh. How had he fallen in love with such a reckless, ruined person? How had he been able to heal someone so lost? Had he been the one to ruin the progress Bin had made, in healing?

Bin pulls away, as if changing his mind, breathless, one hand tucked under the band of Dongmin’s pyjama pants. _I can’t do this_ , he repeats, tugging at his hair. _I want to be better, for you – I’ve never been good enough_ , he admits, reaching into his breast pocket for another cigarette. Dongmin watches in silence, trying to process the confession he’d just made, as the flame of Bin’s lighter flickers to life. Watches, the slightest gasp falling from his lips, as Bin sucks harshly on the end, pushing the smoke out of his lungs and shuddering, as if grateful for something that burnt him from the inside out, like this. _Say something_ , he coughs.

 _Like, what? Do you want me to assure you that you were good enough?_ Dongmin asks, gaining the courage to rip the stick out of his fingers. He drops it to the floor, rubbing it under his heel, feeling the crisp burn on the sole of his foot. _As if, for even a second, I doubted that I loved you?_ Bin looks up at him, a dazed, searching gaze. _I didn’t question anything, anything at all, Bin, until you started to drift away again._

The younger man steps back, eyeing Dongmin’s pyjama pants falling down his hips, staring at the delectable slither of skin, there.

 _I need you_ , Dongmin murmurs.

_I can’t do this for you._

Dongmin feels a heat in his cheeks, feels tears well up in his eyes, his firsts curling tightly. _If not for me, then for_ them, Dongmin whispers, pointing down the hall to their children’s room. _If not for them, either, for yourself_. He slams his fist against the wall, hears something rattle. _I want to make you better, I once did, I can do it again. Can’t you trust me?_

Bin’s lips are quivering, as he chews on the end of his nails. He can’t meet Dongmin’s eye. _I need you, too_ , he admits, the quietest, most apprehensive response. _I’m lost, without you. I don’t know what to do, anymore._

Bin collapses in Dongmin’s arms, shuddering in the eldest’s chest, clutching onto his shirt. It had been so long since Bin had dissolved before him like this – he wonders how long he’d been bottling up his feelings. _I’m right here, I’m here, baby_ , Dongmin replies, pressing kisses into his head, tucking his hand beneath Bin’s jacket and smoothing his palm over his back.

_I thought I’d be okay._

_\- I know._

_I thought I was ruining you._

_\- You weren’t._

They fall asleep, pressed up against their front door, wrapped in each other’s arms. They lived their lives in intense bursts, and mundane periods. They suffered a life without balance – but now with a promise in the future to find it once again.

“Do you still love me?”

“I love you, still… Do you love me?”

“Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed? im always looking for feedback and comments! you can leave some in the comments below or you can find me on my [tumblr](parkjinchu.tumblr.com) or my [twitter](twitter.com/parkjinchu)!! :)


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